You broke my heart into tiny little pieces. You told me you were unhappy and thought we were fundamentally different. Although that was devastating, I could understand where you were coming from. I, too,felt on many occasions unsure of my marriage. But my fear of failure and my love for you and my deep desire to never harm our children and break up our family prevented me from ever taking action.
I always thought that you and I could work through anything. That although we had our ups and downs, this descent would be followed by the certainty of the ascent. Isn’t that what marriage is? Not giving up when the going gets tough? In sickness and in health? You once told me that divorce was incomprehensible and that you would never leave me. At our parting, you then told me you thought I took advantage of that notion. That I neglected you as a husband. Do you not remember me leaving you sleeping in bed to tend to our crying children so that you could rest? Do you not remember me calling you at work to say hi only to be rushed off the phone because you were busy? Did you forget all the activities I supported you in? Your hobbies, your athletic events, your travel for work? Who held down the fort with our home and kids when you were not around? Yes, I could’ve done more to show you my appreciation but my resentment of your selfishness took over. My contempt for your coldness replaced my cheery disposition with stony silence. You stopped listening to me and, without really realizing it, I retaliated.
I shouldn’t be shocked that you were so unhappy. But I attributed it more to your own shortcomings and damaged upbringing rather than realize you were just unhappy with me. But I could handle it. As sad as it was, I thought maybe it was the right thing.
What I wasn’t prepared for, though, was for you to lie to me repeatedly about your friendship with a co-worker. A lesbian in her mid-twenties that I then discovered you’d been chatting with on a daily basis on your cell phone the moment you confessed your misery in marriage. You gave up on the marriage because you had a safety net. You found someone that made you feel light and good. Someone excited to hear from you, someone to admire your expertise and wit and charm. She is 15 years your junior. She is fucked up. She is easy. She doesn’t nag you or have screaming kids or years of baggage with you. You might have been unhappy in our marriage but you didn’t try to work through it because you had her. And the moment you thought you were free, you pursued her. You might even feel like more of a “man” because you converted the lesbian with your dick you’re so proud of. You keep it secret from everyone at work, though, because you both know how pathetic the entire situation is. You tried to convince me that she was nothing more than an emotional void filler. I believe that but I don’t think you realize how much damage you’re doing to yourself and your family. You emotionally walked out on me, not wanting to fully leave until I finally pushed you out the door. You played me for a fool. I kept you at home for 2 months thinking it was best for the kids to not deal with the family destruction until after the holidays. And I secretly had hope that you would realize what a mistake parting would be. I didn’t have confirmation about your thing with the Whore until I did my own snooping late October. And then you had the nerve to get upset with me for violating your privacy!
You are self destructive and selfish and weak. You are gone from my home and I’ve slept better in the last 3.5 weeks than I have in the last 3 months! I’m sad, I’m shattered, I’m hurt, I feel betrayed, I feel foolish, I’m angry, I’m disappointed and I fear the unknown. But I will ultimately be victorious. I will heal. I will do it properly. I will be successful and I will find myself. I will use the fire lit within me to propel me towards things I shied away from previously. I know one day I’ll find love but that’s not my goal here. Not now. I am going to use this to make a better me for my kids and for myself. I will show them what someone strong and healthy can accomplish.
I desperately hope that the next time I write you a letter, it is to thank you for releasing me. For doing what I didn’t have the courage to do. I pray that the happiness I am now capable of has no limit and that I will be stronger and wiser as a result. I’m terrified now but I have faith. A new path has been set for me and I’m taking the journey that’s now summoning me its way. ❤️
No hay mal que por bien no venga…